No Biz Like Showbiz

by Julie Moffett

  I swallowed my distaste. “Ah, you said something about hacking.”

  Cartwright waved a meaty hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting there. Anyway, in the spirit of all this geeky shit, a couple of the company bigwigs got the bright idea to have all of our voting online. So, the girl doesn’t get to choose which dork she wants to date—as if she could anyway—so, the audience does it for her. The girl has to abide by the audience decision.”

  I nearly leapt from my chair. “What?”

  Finn gave me a warning glance. Perhaps to prevent me from leaping across the table to strangle Cartwright, he spread his hands and leaned forward. “So, the online voting is the problem?”

  Cartwright shrugged. “Exactly. Dumb ass idea, in my opinion. I told the suits we needed judges on stage. Three judges with at least one of them easy on the eyes. You know, some chick with big hair, big knockers. That’s always a draw. But I was overruled. Audience participation was considered key.”

  If I had the fantasy power of blasting light like the Glimmers, I’d have knocked Cartwright flat on his back in a white hot flash of blinding brightness. Unfortunately, he was a potential client and X-Corp needed the business, so I swallowed the distaste.

  “So, Mr. Cartwright, does SWM have an IT staff that set up this voting system or do you outsource?”

  Cartwright looked at me blankly. “IT?”

  “Information Technology. You know, computer experts.”

  Tony spoke up. “Oh, we do all that in house. We’ve got four dedicated IT employees to handle it.”

  Cartwright waved his hand. “Dedicated employees, my ass. Apparently we have a bunch of idiots. No matter what they do, they can’t stop this asswipe from wrecking the show.”

  Tony looked at me apologetically. “This hacker has been able to compromise our system on a regular basis, no matter what precautions we take. Worse, he’s skewed the voting so that it’s impossible to determine which votes are legitimate and which aren’t. The way he’s slanted things has not gone over well with our audience, not to mention our star. She’s furious and we’re at our wits end.”

  Cartwright thumped his fist on the table. “Ratings are in the toilet and this hacker is driving us crazy with his stupid demand.”

  I stopped trying to take notes and closed my laptop. “Demand? You mean he does more than just manipulate the data? He actually communicates with you?”

  Tony nodded. “He’s claiming to be some kind of hacker god. He wants us to cancel the show or else.”

  “Or else...what?”

  “Or else he’ll take it down for us.”

  I sympathized with the hacker. “How does this guy communicate with you?”

  “So far, just by email. He issued a so-called social manifesto.” Tony nervously wound his fingers together in his lap.

  A hacker with a social cause?

  Intrigued, I crossed my arms on top of my laptop. “A manifesto? What does it say?”

  Tony glanced nervously at Cartwright. “It seems he doesn’t agree with the portrayal of the geeks on the show.”

  “Who the freaking hell cares whether he agrees or not?” Cartwright smashed his Dodgers cap back on his head. “Shutting him down is why we are here. We just want it to stop as soon as possible.”

  Finn tapped his pen on his pad of paper. “Have you at least contacted the authorities?”

  Cartwright rolled his eyes. “You do realize this is the L.A. police force you are talking about. They patted our hands and told us they’d look into it. Like hell they will. We don’t have time to wait for them to get their heads out of their asses. The show is sinking. We want someone on the premises now, working 24/7 to catch this idiot. Can you help or not?”

  Finn nodded. “Of course we can help. Why doesn’t Tony answer any other questions Lexi might have while we talk pricing?”

  I motioned to Tony for us to step out in the hall. I tucked my laptop under one arm and held my coffee cup in the other hand. We walked out to the reception area and sat in a couple of the oversized chairs.

  Tony still seemed nervous and perched on the edge of his seat, his leg twitching. “Look, I don’t know what else I can tell you. I’m not a computer kind of guy. I’m good at Twitter and working my cell phone, but that’s about it.”

  “That’s okay.” I tried to reassure him, knowing that some people got anxious when asked anything technical. I felt the same way when required to engage in social niceties. “I just have a few more general questions. Does the audience know that the votes are being skewed?”

  “Oh, my God, no. But I think they’re beginning to suspect something isn’t right.”

  “Not surprising seeing as how you’re lying to them.”

  “It’s not lying. Well, not exactly. Withholding the truth is not the same as lying. Besides, it’s all in the name of entertainment, according to Mr. Cartwright.”

  I began to like Cartwright even less. “Do the contestants know something is amiss?”

  “Not officially, but hello, these are geeks we’re talking about. It’s not like we can fool them for long. Look, we just need someone to shut that hacker down or keep him out. Either way, we don’t care. It would be a big blow to SWM if this show were to shut down because of some unhinged nutcase.”

  “Hopefully we’ll be able to help you catch this guy.”

  I looked up as Finn and Cartwright walked out of the conference room. He pointed a stubby finger and me and waggled his eyebrows. “I understand you’re the best, so we want you.”

  Finn stepped between us. “I already told you, Mr. Cartwright, I’m not sure Lexi is well enough to—”

  “I’ll do it. I’m fine.”

  Cartwright narrowed his eyes at me. “So you’ll catch this shithead and shut him down?”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “I don’t want a best shot. I want definite.”

  “Nothing in life is definite but death.”

  He glared at me. “Can you catch him or not?”

  “I’m pretty good. That’s all I can promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that promise. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. Then make it happen.”

  He gave me a final glare and stalked off to the elevator with Tony trailing behind like a puppy.

  Finn motioned for me to follow him back to the conference room. Once inside, he put his hands on the back of the chair. “Are you sure about this, Lexi? You aren’t even recovered from Rome and you’re going to travel to Hollywood?”

  “I’m good, Finn, really. Focusing on something other than the fact I nearly died will actually help my recovery. Trust me. There is nothing like a good hack to make me feel better.”

  He reached out and took my hand. “Does it still hurt?”

  I wiggled my fingers. “A little. The physical therapist gave me exercises to strengthen the muscles. I can do them in Hollywood just as well as I can do them here.”

  “What about the rest of your injures?”

  “Are healed or healing. I’m fine, Finn. Really.”

  He sighed. “I can’t dissuade you?”

  “Not even if you employ all of your lawyerly skill, which is quite considerable, I might add.”

  “Well, there is no question this would be a big step for X-Corp and open up a potentially untapped market for us. Cartwright saw you on the news, you know, as a result of the case in Rome. He asked for you specifically.”

  I grinned. “Good thing I was discreet in Rome.” My smile faded. “If he asked for me specifically, then why did you want to keep me out of the meeting?”

  He exhaled. “Because I really do want you to stay home and recover. I’m not just talking physically, Lexi.”

  I appreciated his concern, perhaps more than he knew. “I k
now. It was a scary situation. But I’m okay, Finn. Besides, I’m better when I’m working and my mind is busy.”

  He touched my cheek. “I never would have agreed to let you go if I thought it put you in harm’s way.”

  “You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

  “Yet, I do.”

  I nodded. “I understand. I’m feeling that way a bit myself.”

  He studied my face. “Why are you feeling guilty about Rome?”

  “I don’t feel guilty about Rome. I feel guilty about you. You’re too many things to me, Finn. A friend, a co-worker and my boss. I almost shared a shower with you. I don’t understand if you’re supposed to be my boyfriend, or even if you want to be. I’m not sure how to handle it all.”

  “Why don’t we continue getting to know each other in our personal time outside of work?”

  “But taking a shower with you or having sex with you is too personal for me.”

  “Then we don’t have to go there. Yet.”

  “But I don’t know that we’ll ever get there. It’s too much for me, Finn. The truth is, I can’t manage the complexity of a relationship with you right now. I didn’t invite you into the shower with me because I wasn’t ready for that. Now that you write my paycheck, I’m not sure I’d ever be comfortable with it. I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can be your girlfriend—if having sex with you means that—as well as being your co-worker.”

  He looked surprised. “You...you want to leave X-Corp?”

  I blew out a breath. “No, Finn. I really like my job. I want to stay. But I think I may need a breather from this thing between us.”

  He blinked and then pulled out a chair and sat down in it. “Well, bloody hell. I didn’t see that coming.”

  I pulled out a chair and joined him. “See, I’m handling this all wrong. You are going to fire me.”

  He laughed hoarsely. “No. Oh, God, no. You are my best employee and X-Corp’s most valuable resource. But even if you weren’t, I wouldn’t fire you because you didn’t want to date me. It would be reprehensible, not to mention illegal.”

  “I’m doing a bad job of explaining myself.”

  He shook his head. “No, no. You’re doing fine. This is on me. I should have realized the uncomfortable position I’ve put you in. I didn’t think too hard about it because I really, really enjoy your company. I wanted...well, I know what I wanted.”

  I remained silent. I wasn’t sure what else I could add.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, bugger it. I’m not sure how to handle this myself. But damn, I understand your dilemma. I really do.”

  “Thank you, Finn. I hope you’ll still consider being my friend. Seeing as how I have so few.”

  He smiled and reached across the table, taking my non-injured hand. “That is non-negotiable.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

  He smiled back and a weight lifted from my heart. I still had my job and a friend...at least for the time being.

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “So, what’s our plan for SWM?”

  He released my hand and leaned back in the chair. “I told him I couldn’t guarantee you for the job. But Cartwright is willing to pay us more than double if you’ll be on the case personally.”

  “I’m more than willing to earn my paycheck, Finn.”

  “I don’t doubt that. But after this, I may have to give you a raise.”

  “You might. But only because I have to deal with a jerk like Cartwright.”

  “I figured you didn’t like the crack about geeks and their pie holes.”

  “You think?”

  “I didn’t much like that crack myself.”

  I tapped my fingertips against the lid of my laptop. “Well, I guess I’ll go home and pack.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for heading out tomorrow? I’m still on the fence about this.”

  I thought of my mother. “I’m sure I can handle this. In fact, the sooner I go, the better. Trust me on this.”

  He sighed. “Okay, then. I’ll have Glinda get you a ticket.”

  “Perfect.”

  My mother would be beyond upset if she knew I was leaving again especially when she thought I was still on my deathbed. Guess I would play dumb if she came by tonight and call her from Hollywood after it would be too late to stop me.

  Finn frowned. “Oh, Lexi. There’s one more thing I think you should know before you arrive in Hollywood.”

  I cocked my head. “And that would be?”

  “It’s the name of Cartwright’s show. It’s...well, let’s just say more than a bit offensive.”

  “Wow. I’m really going to despise this guy now, right?”

  “I’m betting yes, and it’s okay if you despise him as long as you also remember he’s a client. A well-paying client.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I can be. What is it?”

  “Better that I show you. Open up your laptop to your browser.”

  I opened it up, typed in my password and clicked on my browser. He angled it away from me, and typed something.

  “Here goes. Brace yourself.”

  “Jeez. What’s the big freaking deal?”

  “This.” Finn punched a key and turned the laptop screen toward me, sliding it my way. I watched as an embedded video began with flashing lights and dramatic music led by a percussion section making a repetitive noise that sounded suspiciously like the staccato of someone typing on a keyboard. Then an announcer’s voice boomed, “Welcome to our show where beauty is traded for brains and brawn is replaced with brevity. Tune in tonight and see how...” There was a long drumroll and extensive red, yellow and purples flashing lights, “...Geeks Get Some.”

  Chapter Three

  The one nice thing about Southern California in late November is that the weather is fantastic. Palm trees swayed in a light breeze and the sun was bright. I wore jeans, sunglasses and a light sweater and was warm and comfortable. Tony Rabbin picked me up at the airport, looking even tanner than he had the day before. He drove me to an upscale hotel a few blocks from the studio, then gallantly removed my suitcase from the trunk and gave it to the bellhop.

  Tony slammed the car trunk shut. “I’ll wait for you. Go check in and drop off your luggage. The results show is tonight and we want you on hand. You should have some time to get a tour and meet the IT team before the show starts.”

  I didn’t have a clue what he meant by results show, but I nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  I checked in and left my luggage in the room but brought my laptop with me. I came right back down without unpacking.

  “That was quick.”

  “You told me drop off my luggage and come back.”

  “Yes, but you were just a few minutes.”

  I looked at him puzzled. “That’s what I told you. I’d be back in a few minutes.”

  “Yes, but a few minutes in Hollywood is not a few minutes.”

  “Okay, that made absolutely no sense.”

  He laughed. “I’m just not used to punctuality. People are never on time in Hollywood. On purpose.”

  “Why would anyone be late on purpose?”

  He laughed, his blond surfer hair blowing around his head. “What a great question.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Oh, my God. Why? Did you really just ask why?”

  “Was that some kind of a social blunder?”

  He laughed. “Not for you. People are fashionably late in Hollywood, I suppose, to make it seem like they are more important. You know, my time is more valuable than yours.”

  “What’s fashionable about that?”

  “Nothing at all. Damn
it, Lexi, I think I’m going to like you. The studio is up ahead.”

  It was so close I could have walked the distance from the hotel in ten minutes. When I mentioned it to Tony, he nearly had a heart attack.

  “Hollywood rule number two, after the fashionably late one, is you do not walk anywhere in L.A. You must drive or be driven.”

  “Will I commit another social faux pas if I ask why?”

  “Most certainly. It’s just the way it is.”

  I kept my mouth shut as we pulled up to a black gate with a guardhouse.

  The guard stepped out. “Hey, Tony. She with you?”

  “She sure is, Manny. This is Lexi Carmichael.”

  I gave him a small wave. He looked at his clipboard, checked something and then stepped back inside. The gate opened slowly. Tony drove inside and I marveled at the huge complex of buildings flanked by a couple of hangar-sized structures. I saw a coffee shop, a yoga studio, a dry cleaner and an urgent care medical facility all within one strip of buildings. There were dozens of costumed people walking around or being driven by golf carts from one building to another. I watched as three people dressed in what looked like astronaut outfits walk out of one building and into a parking lot holding their helmets under their hands, drinking water and laughing loudly.

  “It’s like a mini-city in here.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty self-sustaining.” Tony took two sharp right turns and pulled into a parking lot. “Here we are. Studio 27.”

  I got out of the car and Tony motioned for me to follow him. A uniformed security guard stood at the door. He waved us forward when he saw Tony.

  He smiled at me when I passed him. “Welcome to Geeks Get Some.”

  I cringed. “Jeez.”

  We walked into a large open area with people running all about. Some guy ran past and nearly brained me with an oversized microphone.

  “Sorry.” He shouted it over his shoulder without even slowing down.